


Unpleasantville Redux

by wheel_pen



Series: Daisy [18]
Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Naughtiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 19:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the school’s 1950’s-themed dance, Daisy keeps Jeremy occupied while Damon, Stefan, and Elena investigate a rogue vampire. “Be glad it’s not an 1850’s dance, you’d be pouring punch in the back room.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpleasantville Redux

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Daisy, my original character, moved to Mystic Falls about a year ago. There is something special about her.
> 
> 2\. This series begins with the first season of the TV show and completely diverges about halfway through the first season. Facts revealed later on the show might not make it into this series.
> 
> 3\. Underage warning: This series may contain human or human-like teenagers, in high school, in sexual situations.
> 
> 4\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate being able to play in this universe.

            “You look uncomfortable,” Damon observed bluntly as we swayed to the music. “Are you on Red Alert, or is your ponytail just pulled too tight?”

            I gave him an exasperated smile. “Sorry. I just feel weird at this dance.”

            He glanced around at the tacky 1950’s decorations and the giant video screen incongruous with the jerky black-and-white footage flashing across it. “I dunno, seems pretty authentic to me,” he deadpanned.

            “If I were a high schooler in the 1950’s, we wouldn’t be attending a dance together,” I pointed out.

            “Yes, that era was the height of discrimination against supernatural creatures.”

            I rolled my eyes. “I just find it a little strange to celebrate a decade when I would have been spit on if I left my own neighborhood.”

            “Well, that’s most of American history,” he quipped darkly. “Be glad it’s not an _1850’s_ dance, you’d be pouring punch in the back room.”

            “Wow, that makes me feel better,” I told him with a smile.

            He dipped me unexpectedly, then pulled me up much closer than any ‘50’s couple would’ve been allowed to dance at school. “I would’ve danced with you, in the ‘50’s,” he claimed. “I knew a lot of girls back then who weren’t all WASPy.”

            “I bet you did,” I agreed. Of course, most of them probably ended up dead. “Blood’s red all around, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows at me in response. “I bet you were really cool in the ‘50’s.”

            He feigned hurt. “I’m _still_ cool.”

            “I bet you had a really cool car,” I went on.

            “I _did_ have a cool car,” he agreed fondly.

            “I bet you had… a silver Porsche Spyder,” I guessed.

            He stopped dancing and pushed me back a little so he could stare at me. “How did you know that?” he demanded.

            I smiled and slid my arms around his neck again. “Because that’s what James Dean had,” I pointed out.

            He seemed to accept this and relaxed again. “Oh. Little b-----d.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “The name of James Dean’s car,” he protested innocently.

            “I know.”

            We continued swaying to the music. Some of the selections were remakes of famous ‘50’s songs, on the premise that modern kids obviously couldn’t be entertained by anything that wasn’t stuffed with backbeats and perhaps a rap interlude; but some of the songs were _actual_ hits of the 1950’s. With my eyes closed, it wasn’t hard to imagine I was in some alternate past, where dancing with a white man at a function featuring people of several races wasn’t such an alien and frightening notion.

            Of course, the white man in question was also a vampire, which wasn’t acceptable _anywhere_ just yet.

            “Does this song seem creepy to you, or is it just me?” Damon asked as ‘Earth Angel’ began.

            “Not creepy in a _bad_ way,” I decided. “But it _does_ sound like what starts playing right before you see the ghost of someone who died on Prom Night 1955.”

            He dipped me again. I think he liked doing it for the return embrace. “Or maybe it was just a ‘50’s Decade Dance.”

            I pulled him close and whispered in his ear. “There’s one in the room.”

            I felt his body tense up but knew he wasn’t foolish enough to give anything away. “Where?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.

            “Punch table.” He turned us slowly so he was facing that direction. “Not the one we want, though.” Which meant there was yet _another_ vampire in town.

            “S—t,” he hissed in my ear, maneuvering us back around. “Anna,” he mumbled, kissing me. I was not offended to hear another girl’s name on his lips—I knew he was just trying to avoid tipping off anyone with supernatural hearing. “Friend of Katherine.”

            I didn’t have time to question him further. “Another one. Moving fast. Punch table.”

            Damon spun us dramatically, as though part of his vintage dance moves, and took a brief glance. “Gotta be him. Cell phone. Who’s he talking to?”

            One of the chaperones was eyeing us, no doubt wondering if we were going to break the decade and go all _Dirty Dancing_ on them. “Elena,” I answered him. “She just went out the east door, on her phone.”

            “Stefan?”

            “West side. Wrong way.” Damon growled under his breath. “Go after her,” I told him, meaning Elena. “I’ll watch the other one.” He broke away from me and headed quickly towards the east door, where the vampire we were chasing had disappeared after Elena. The chaperone was probably thoroughly confused at this point.

            I wandered casually over to the punch table, where Elena’s brother Jeremy was restacking cups dutifully. Anna the vampire was fairly young in appearance—mid-teens, maybe younger than Stefan when he’d been turned. Not so very long ago teenagers were seen as adults at the beginning of their productive life—now they were classified as children who might be _more_ irresponsible than at younger ages. Anna might have been engaged or even married at her age in her original time period; now she was reduced to masquerading as a high schooler.

            “—so we could go right now and get it,” she was telling Jeremy, trying and failing to rein in her eagerness.

            He seemed relieved at my approach, though not for the right reason. “Hey, Daisy. You want some punch?”

            “Sure,” I agreed. “It’s really hot out there.” I turned to Anna cheerfully. “Oh, are you a friend of Jeremy’s? I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

            “This is Anna,” Jeremy introduced. He had been much more polite and pleasant since Damon wiped out whatever he’d wiped out in his mind following Vicki’s death. “This is Daisy. She’s—uh—“

            “I’m his sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend,” I recited slowly, laughing at the awkward term. Anna really didn’t care, of course, though she might be more interested once she realized that meant _Damon’s_ girlfriend, since she knew him. Right now, she just wanted me to leave so she could continue her conversation with Jeremy. Instead I leaned against the table comfortably and sipped my punch. “So do you go to school here?”

            “Actually I’m homeschooled,” Anna answered shortly.

            “Really? I was homeschooled through sixth grade,” I told her in an excited tone. “What kind of curriculum do you have? Are you taking any classes at an institution, to meet the state science guidelines?”

            I kept Anna engaged with questions until she finally got tired of scrambling for vague answers and left. She went out through the east door, which led to the rest of the school—perhaps she was going to check on her associate. Damon and Stefan were probably chopping him into pieces by now.

            “Hey, thanks,” Jeremy told me sheepishly when Anna had left. “She’s kind of cool, but also kind of…”

            “Persistent?” I guessed.

            “Yeah,” he grinned. “She’s really fixated on reading this old journal from one of my ancestors that I told her about. And she believes in vampires.”

            “Huh,” was all I had to say to those two very interesting pieces of information.

            “Yeah, I kinda like that she’s weird,” he admitted, “but it’s a little much sometimes. Hey, I didn’t know you were homeschooled,” he added, changing the topic.

            I changed it again. “You seem kinda bored over here,” I observed. “You wanna see a party trick? You have a coin?”

            “Uh, sure,” Jeremy replied gamely, digging into his pocket.

            I grabbed one of the cocktail napkins and started to write on it. I didn’t really feel comfortable leaving him alone yet, since Anna clearly had some interest in him. “I’m going to write down the outcome for ten coin tosses,” I explained to him, making a column of H’s and T’s. “Then you flip the coin and we’ll see if I’m right.”

            “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the dash I’d given for number seven instead of H or T.

            “We’ll see,” I replied ambiguously, handing him the napkin. “You hold onto this so there’s no way I can change it.” He tucked it into his shirt pocket. “Now flip the coin ten times and write down the results.”

            “Okay,” he agreed, sounding more like he was humoring me than anything. He was really a good kid, once he’d gotten past all the brooding and drugs.

            While he flipped the coin, I thought. A vampire friend of Katherine’s who hadn’t gotten caught in the church fire—most likely she was here for the same reason as Damon, to get that tomb open. Whether for Katherine or someone else was a question I didn’t have enough information to answer yet. If Jeremy had an old family journal it was probably that of Founder Johnathan Gilbert—at least, if Anna was interested in it. She must think that it contained some clue that would be useful to her—perhaps the fate of Emily’s spell book, what Damon had hoped _his_ father’s journal would reveal.

            So— _two_ vampires with the same ultimate goal, looking for the same piece of information. Somehow I had the feeling Anna and Damon wouldn’t be peacefully working side by side on this.

            “Uh-oh,” Jeremy said. His finger had slipped and the coin landed awkwardly against a stack of cups, with neither face really up.

            “Just put a question mark,” I suggested, “and go on to the next one.”

            Why would Anna tell Jeremy she believed in vampires, though? That was a rather strange move on her part. Of course I didn’t know the full context of their conversation on that subject—it might just have been a tossed-off remark.

            “Okay, I’m done,” Jeremy announced.

            “Take out the list I made and compare them,” I told him, making no move to look myself. I knew what the results were going to be. I was more interested in scanning the crowd for any sign of Damon, Stefan, or Elena.

            Jeremy’s eyes got bigger and bigger as he looked from my list to his own. “They’re the same,” he finally noted. “You even got the weird one at number seven.” He looked up at me with a frown. “How did you do that?”

            I saw Damon signaling to me from the east door. “You let me know when you figure it out,” I told him with a smile, starting to walk away. “See you later, Jeremy.”


End file.
